


the darkness ive come to know so well

by atomicelle



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Extremely Dubious Consent, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-13
Updated: 2014-03-13
Packaged: 2018-01-15 14:09:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1307650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atomicelle/pseuds/atomicelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is so, so tired.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the darkness ive come to know so well

**Author's Note:**

> aaaa im really not sure what to say here :S it IS a dark fic with noncon/dubcon so please take heed!!!
> 
> as always you can ask for prompts on my tumblr (rareity)

Stiles is so tired.

Too tired to fight back, to push away at the soulless creature whose claws are digging into his colourless flesh. Too exhausted to let the excruciating scream echoing inside of him be heard.

He remains still, hopelessly allowing the creature he fears to tear his body apart.

His mind is broken, all optimistic illusions of rescue and salvation disappearing into darkness.

Disappearing into void.

Stiles feels the familiar cold and sticky hands touch his bare hips, _his_ hands, and his body shivers in terrified disgust; “You have no idea,” The spirit who mocks him with malicious displays of dominance speaks, “How good you taste.”

Inside Stiles is disgusted, and his mind vomits constant screams and yells of anger.

Yet Stiles doesn’t make a sound, doesn’t move.

God, he is so tired.

Tired of struggling to know the difference between reality and dreams, they both have the same effect on him now anyway. They both leave him numb, without feeling.

_(Wake up. Wake up. **Wake up.** )_

He hears it again, the words that he hears so often they have become background noise to his miserable excuse of existence. A twisted soundtrack to play alongside his tainted fate.

The demon bends Stiles over, the boy’s face sick and pale with lack of sleep, and thrusts forward.

For a split second Stiles wants to scream for help, wants Scott or Derek or Lydia or Allison to hear his silent anguished cry. But they don’t. He doesn’t let anyone hear his voice.

All he hears is the inhaling of breaths, the huffs and pants that torture him with every intake.

“You’re not making a sound,”

Stiles’ eyes are heavy like lead, iron paperweights that refuse to shut, to remind him of the fox spirit that has taken over his body and mind. _His life._

“But inside you’re screaming for help that won’t come, and it’s _delicious._ ”

The nogistune grips onto Stiles’ hips so hard they begin to bruise, leaving exquisite splotches of deep purple that will remain on his flesh for a long period of time, long enough for his friends to notice. It is a reminder of what life has forced onto him; a demon who wears his face and tricks his friends has destroyed his life and wants Stiles to remember it forever.

Not a sound is made except for the constant, harsh slapping of flesh against flesh and the pleasured moans and grunts coming solely from Stiles’ nightmarish twin.

**_(WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP)_ **

Those two words ring throughout his head without stopping, circling every corner of his mind, screaming incoherently into his battered subconscious.

Outside, his voice remains silent and hidden.

Inside, however, he’s a fucking mess of overlapping shrieks that won’t end and torturous chants of anger that cut him like a dagger of futile aggression. Forcing, no, _wanting_ him to fight away the spirit that has consumed all hope and happiness he had and replacing it with its own form of hellish, inhumane joke.

Chaos, pain and strife are the only remaining emotions he feels and he knows how much the nogistune loves it, yet he can’t seem to stop.

“Fuck, you feel _so good_.”

Thrusts are forced upon the boy, his body still and lifeless against the nogistune’s powerful one, draining every inch of him with each movement. Stiles lets the darkness surrounding his heart to envelope him in quivering madness.

“And do you know the best part of this?” The demon whispers, his face now inches away from Stiles’ ear, “You will never be able to escape me. Even if your friends find a way to get rid of me, I’ll always be here.”

Stiles doesn’t remember how he got into this position, how he let himself be violated by a creature hell-bent on destruction. But he doesn’t want to recall the memories that will forever haunt him.

He just wants to be able to sleep.

**_(WAKEUPWAKEUPWAKEUPWAKEUPWAKEUP)_ **

When the nogistune finishes and leaves Stiles’ body, leaving it limp against the surface he was supposedly supporting his weight onto, does Stiles let out his screams and wails in a colourful display of helpless despair.

Except there’s no one around to hear him.

 


End file.
